Dancing With My Shadow
by Diva-esque
Summary: What's scarier than Seishirou? Two of him.


** Dancing With My Shadow**  
by aishuu  
A Tsubasa Chronicles/X Crossover  
Disclaimers: CLAMP's.  
_Credit of course goes to sophiap, sailormac , sakon76 and ninjatrauma for listening to me go off on this. And the other ten unfortunate souls I grabbed while writing this.  
_

* * *

He had traveled to so many worlds that it was beginning to be difficult to keep them straight. He saw the same faces, over and over, and they started to blend together in his mind. They were the same people, after all, when it came down to it. One Fuuma or Nokoru or Hikaru was much the same as another. They shared the same soul, and once he knew one, he knew them all.

Some personalities seemed to be rarer than others; one girl, Miyuki, he met in nearly every world. He'd only met two Clow Reeds in his travels, a fact he blessed. The man was the most... memorable... person he'd ever encountered, and he knew, instinctively like the hunter he was, that Clow could derail his plans by just waving a hand. Luckily Clow seemed to hold no interest in his affairs.

It shouldn't have been a surprise when he finally met himself, but it was.

He had been wondering how rare his personality was across worlds after breaking the hundred mark without ever encountering a sign that he existed elsewhere. A part of him was gratified he was so unique, but it led to a sense of isolation as well. He'd heard legends of people who had no duplicate, like the Space Time Witch. They lived unique existences, but their lives tended to be lonely. He was starting to wonder if he was one of those solitary souls, but then in one of what he'd come to think of as the "Tokyo template" world that he ran into Sakurazuka Seishirou.

Sitting at a bus stop, Seishirou was anonymous in jeans and a collared shirt. He needed to rest before he could shift worlds, and maybe take a moment to see if Subaru was here. He didn't think his Subaru would be attracted to such an existence, but the twins had been running for a long time. He was too tired to be paying much attention, but that was something that was often fatal to a world-traveler, so he had no excuse for not noticing anyone behind him.

"Do you have a light?" a startling familiar voice asked.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. He wasn't used to having someone sneak up on him. He had been trained as a warrior, and he wasn't supposed to be caught off-guard. He jerked his head around, his muscles tense and ready to fight or flee, depending on what he saw.

It was rare things took him completely by surprise, but he figured he could be excused this time. The man was _him_, he thought. This was how he'd look, if he got older. He noted the refined planes of the other man's face, the way his shoulders seemed broader underneath the neat suit. It was gratifying, he recognized, to realize he could mature to become such a handsome figure.

The man held an unlit cigarette between his fingers, and was waiting for an answer. His eyes, hidden by dark glasses in spite of the heavy night around them, were unreadable.

"I don't smoke," he said after taking a moment to gather his wits.

"Pity," the other Seishirou said, digging into a pocket to produce a book of matches. "I hope you don't mind if I do."

He shook his head to show his indifference. Smoking was a dirty habit, but crossing worlds had exposed him to worse. He made a point of avoiding local drugs for fear of picking up an addiction he wouldn't be able to indulge; he had his quest, and that was obsession enough to last him several lifetimes. A smirk graced the other Seishirou's face as he lit the cigarette as he walked around to take a seat on the other side of the bench.

"Sakurazuka Seishirou, I presume. I must say I hadn't been expecting to meet myself here," the older Seishirou said.

"Just Seishirou, actually. You know what I am then?" Some worlds contained knowledge of others, but the Tokyo templates tended to be ignorant of anything beyond the physical. They were logic-based, not able to dream of things beyond the boundaries of their own reality.

"I have some experience with magic," was the reply, before the man took a drag on his cigarette. Smoke curled around his head like a broken halo, wreathing him in mystique. "Perhaps you would like to join me for dinner and speak on why you're here?"

It was a politely worded command, Seishirou recognized. He wasn't sure if he wanted to spend any time with an incarnation of himself - self-knowledge was a dangerous thing, but temptation rose within him. "If you're paying," he answered after a long moment.

"Certainly. I know the best little Italian place," he said. "I assume you like pasta?"

Seishirou smiled in reply.

It was only a short walk away, less than three city blocks, and he took the time to evaluate the other man. The older Seishirou didn't really smoke that much, preferring to use his cigarette to emphasize a point as he gestured. He pointed out the landmarks with a desultory air, more to keep a thread of conversation tied between them than because of any desire to educate.

Finally they made a sudden toward an alley to their right. It was a tiny, dank alley, and Seishirou's nose caught the aroma of rotting garbage and heard the slight squeaks of rodents. It would be the perfect place to commit a murder, he thought cynically. "This is a shortcut," the older man said, a smile painting his face with reassuring light.

Seishirou knew better to trust that look, since he wore it often himself, usually just before pulling the rug out from underneath someone. This was a test, and his answer would say everything. "After you," he replied, bowing a bit mockingly.

They laughed together, their voices ringing in a unique harmony.

On the opposite end, the soft lights of a tiny restaurant glistened like a diamond in the rough. The buildings around it were old, built just after the war which had affected almost all Tokyo templates, and some of the people passing through the neighboring made Seishirou mentally check himself. He had survived his travels through caution, and recognizing potential threats had saved his life more than once.

The other him wasn't concerned about his surroundings, gliding down the street with barely a glance. It could be because he was familiar with the area, but Seishirou suspected it was due to confidence. It was only through sheer force of will that his hand didn't clutch the feather which has brought him here for reassurence that he could escape. He didn't want the other him to know about it, because he wasn't sure this was a battle he could win.

The doorbell chimed pleasantly as they entered. Seishirou was relieved to see the warm atmosphere. Bright, inexpensive tablecloths spanned the tiny round tables, which were pleasantly spaced out throughout the room. He could smell the heavy scent of garlic hanging in the air, layered with a few other spices.

The best sign was that there were couples scattered around the tables in a haphazard fashion, even at this late an hour. They spoke comfortably, not glancing around at their surroundings, hinting that they were regulars. If a restaurant managed to gain a loyal following, the food was probably worth eating, or cheap.

A harried waitress, attractive although twenty pounds overweight, hustled to the door. Her short, black hair framed a face that was just starting to earn the lines of age, but most of them indicated she smiled a lot.

"Hello, Kimi-chan," the other Seishirou said.

A genuine smile of welcome lit the waitress' haggard features, transforming her until she was verging on pretty. "Sakurazuka-sensei!" she exclaimed. "How are you?"

"Better than you appear to be," he said with a chuckle, dropping his eyes to her spaghetti-splattered clothing. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," she said, leaning a hip against the nearest table. "Jubai-san came here to celebrate her 80th, and her great-grandkids decided it would be fun to see who could make the spaghetti stick to the wall in the most interesting shape. The private room's a mess." She shook her head, the short strands bopping around her face, before she pushed them away with an irritated grumble.

"We can seat ourselves and give you a few minutes to catch your breath," was the surprisingly considerate offer from the older man. "Go in the kitchen and break a glass or something, you'll feel better."

"Probably, but they'd deduct it from my salary," Kimi said with a sigh. "Are you sure?" she asked with a wistful voice as she gained longingly at the offered sanctuary.

"Don't worry," Seishirou chimed in. "There's plenty of things I want to talk to... Seishirou-san about." He hoped the pause hadn't been noticeable.

"Thanks," she said, before ducking away.

As soon as she was out of range, the older Seishirou turned to him. "Call me Sakurazuka," the older man invited. "It might spare some confusion."

Seishirou nodded, finding that logical. "Sounds good. Do you have a seating preference?"

Sakurazuka pointed to a table in the far corner that was surrounded by plenty of space for privacy. It would offer a good view of both the windows and the door, and would allow them to keep an eye on the kitchen entrance as well. The lighting was low enough to be considered intimate, but bright enough that there weren't many shadows. "I usually sit over there."

"I can see why." He gestured for Sakurazuka to precede him.

After taking the seats, Seishirou folded his hands on the table. Show the hands, show you're not dangerous, and people would relax a bit subconsciously. Sakurazuka adopted the same posture, Seishirou noted with amusement. There were ways of playing with the mind, and Seishirou knew - and used - quite a few. It was satisfying to see that his other self used them as easily as he did. It implied intelligence, and he would have hated it if any of his incarnations was less than bright.

"Would you tell me what you're doing here?" Sakurazuka asked, pulling out another cigarette. There was a no-smoking sign on the wall, but that didn't seem to matter to him. A flick of a match, and another cigarette was lit, balanced between slender fingers that Seishirou could easily imagine snapping someone's neck. He could nearly smell blood on the other man, although such a thought was fanciful. Despite his magic, his senses were no better than the average mortal; worse, actually, because of his blind eye.

"I'm looking for something," he said. "I suppose you could call it my heart's desire."

Behind the sunglasses, which Sakurazuka still wore indoors, one of the eyebrows lifted. "Your Wish?" he asked, and the way he said the word made it clear it was Wish with a capital W.

"I suppose," Seishirou answered. Throughout worlds, there were many subtleties in communication.

"A Wish is a dangerous thing," Sakurazuka said. "A real Wish, that is." He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette into his empty glass. Somehow a third had appeared, and Seishirou wondered how he could have missed it being placed. Sloppy, he chided himself.

"A real Wish?" he asked.

"A Wish is the inner-most desire of a person's heart," Sakurazuka said. His voice sounded deeper, husky with implication that he was speaking of something important. It reminded Seishirou of the time he'd met the Space Time Witch, and how she had spoken about a price that was owed for everything received. "The bigger the Wish, the higher the cost to achieve it."

"That's a universal constant," Seishirou replied. "No matter what world I've been to, nothing comes for free."

"But are you willing to pay whatever price may be?"

Of course he was. He'd already paid what the witch had demanded of him for the chance to follow his Subaru, he thought. "What would you pay for yours?" Seishirou asked, diverting the question back to its originator.

Sakurazuka removed his sunglasses finally, and Seishirou's attention was immediately drawn to the dull, milky gaze of the right eye. The other man was blind as well, in the same eye. "I think we have a lot in common," the older man said in a mild voice, before offering a friendly smile. "Odin paid with his eye for wisdom, so it's not that bad a trade."

Wondering who Odin was, Seishirou offered a slight smile, but prevented from speaking by Kimi who appeared holding a water pitcher and menus. "Thanks for waiting," she said. Deftly she handed them each a menu before pouring them each some water. The ice cubes clicked against the glasses as she set them in front of her patrons. "Should I leave the pitcher here?"

"Please," Sakurazuka said. "If you give us a couple minutes to decide?"

"No problem," she said, before heaving a melodramatic sigh. "I have spaghetti I need to scrape off the wall before it hardens."

Sakurazuka chuckled. "I hope they tipped well."

"Not as well as you do," she said playfully.

"I'm hurt," Sakurazuka said. "Here I thought you liked me for myself instead of my wallet."

"I'm a working girl, paying the bills come first," she retorted, fluttering her eyelashes. "Of course, if you decide to sweep me off my feet, I'll get the best of both worlds, won't I?"

"Alas, my heart belongs to another," Sakurazuka said, pressing his hand against his chest.

"I know," she said more softly. "All the good ones are taken or gay."

"Both in my case," Sakurazuka replied.

She made a sad face, before bursting into giggles. "If you ever decide to swing the other way, just let me know, Sakurazuka-sensei!"

"You'll be the first to know," he promised, catching her hand and pressing his lips against her knuckles. She blushed a bit as she reclaimed it, her eyes sparkling happily. Seishirou watched the exchange with fascination. Sakurazuka seemed so kind and friendly, hiding his real nature under a careful facade of humor and courtesy. It was just the right blend to flatter without being lascivious, play without promising.

"I'm glad to see you with someone - you haven't brought anyone here since that charming Sumeragi. How is he? Are you still in touch?"

"I'm afraid Subaru-kun isn't doing that well. He lost his sister, and he hasn't been the same since." Seishirou went rigid at that name. He'd never met any other Subarus, either. He wondered what he would do, if he could meet another with the same soul as the person who meant the most to him. Sakurazuka's eyes narrowed a bit as he noted Seishirou's reaction, before he continued speaking to the waitress. "This is my distant relation. Call him Sei-chan," he said.

Kimi gave Seishirou a sympathetic look. "Sei-san, it's nice to meet you. Don't let Sakurazuka-sensei tease you too much," she said.

"I can give _ojiisan_ as good as I get," Seishirou said with a sweet smile. Sakurazuka raised his water glass in a mock toast, acknowledging the hit.

Kimi laughed, shaking her head. "I'll leave you two alone with a safe conscience, then," she said. Winking, she went away, going past the kitchen to a small door located in the far corner.

"What's your Subaru like?" Sakurazuka asked..

"Who's Subaru?" Seishirou opened his own menu to give himself a moment to collect his composure. The written language was one he recognized, a fairly standard variant of Japanese he'd seen dozens of times. He squinted a bit, trying to decipher the writing. It looked like the restaurant served basic Italian cuisine, something which he'd tasted many times and found agreeable. It wasn't available in his home universe, and others would use unusual seasonings. He hoped he'd like this version.

His words earned a snort of derision from the older man. "You recognized the name," Sakurazuka point out. "I saw you tense." A slow, unpleasant smile, reminiscent of a wolf, stretched Sakurazuka's lips. "Don't think you can lie to me," he said in a low, nearly monotone voice.

It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up in warning. _This man was dangerous,_ he thought, not for the first time. When his genial demeanor was stripped away, what remained was a killer determined to reach his goals. It took one to know one, after all, and Seishirou had to force himself to relax. Spending too much time with his other self would definitely be a mistake. "I never dreamt of it," Seishirou said, hoping to smoothly divert the topic of conversation.

"What's your Subaru like?" Sakurazuka repeated, pressing his question.

"Probably like yours," Seishirou hedged. He wasn't sure if this was a world that vampires existed or not, and it would not help him expedite his search to get into _that_ discussion. "I don't suppose you've seen a stray Subaru around?" he asked.

"The one I know is quite well claimed," Sakurazuka said, silken threat woven in his voice. _Stay away from what's mine._

"Ah, a pity," Seishirou murmured in reply. "You used to eat here with him?" He tried to imagine taking Subaru out to dinner, but the idea was foreign. Subaru didn't need to eat - at least not food.

"Occasionally. Usually he'd spend most of his time blushing and stammering in embarrassment. He was a cute kid." Sakurazuka picked up his glass and took a delicate sip. "He's still beautiful, even as an adult."

An adult Subaru was a curious proposition for Seishirou, since the Subaru he knew was locked in time, forever unchanging. Closing his eyes, he imaged the fair skin and eyes that had come to define the color green in his mind. It had been so long since he'd seen his Subaru. He was tempted to ask if Sakurazuka had a picture, but he refrained. This was not his world; he wanted _his_ Subaru, not a substitute. "He's always been beautiful," he said after a long moment.

"Beautiful enough to chase through other worlds, I agree," Sakurazuka said.

Seishirou raised his glass in acknowledgment of the hit. His counterpart had drawn the right conclusion, and was letting him know it. "Beautiful enough to chase through _all_ the other worlds," he agreed.

"Though he always has an annoying habit of running just when things start getting interesting," Sakurazuka said. "Usually in the wrong direction, but he bolts pretty easily."

"I think that's more his sister's fault," Seishirou replied. It was a careful probe. He'd learned that not all people existed with the same relations in each world, but Subaru's soul was so closely entwined with Hokuto's that he found impossible to believe there was a world where they weren't twins.

"Ah, she's still alive?" Sakurazuka asked with interest.

"She's still with him," Seishirou replied, splitting hairs. "Yours isn't?"

That dark smile crossed Sakurazuka's lips. "I killed her nine years ago."

How that must have hurt Subaru. How that must have destroyed him. There had been times that he'd considered solving his problems with Subaru by removing his sister, but common sense had stayed his hand. Subaru and Hokuto were like two sides of the same coin, unable to exist without each other.

"Any reason?" he asked. If he'd been from a different world, maybe he'd have done the same.

"Because she asked me to," Sakurazuka said. "I really couldn't deny her Wish." Mocking amusement now laced his words. "Hokuto-chan thought she would save him."

"From you?"

"From himself."

"The only person who can save someone is that person," Seishirou said. He'd seen so much done in the name of love, so much self-sacrifice and so many crimes of passion that he'd drawn that as another inescapable truth. If something was worth doing, it had to be done by the person who desired it.

Sakurazuka finished his cigarette, dropping its remains in the water glass he'd been using like an ashtray. Seishirou noticed that his hands were oddly smooth, and no nicotine stained his fingers. The man smelled like smoke and sakura petals, and he wondered if Sakurazuka wore some strange cologne. He thought outside looked like autumn, too late for the pale pink blossoms to bloom. It was a minor thing, since he couldn't always tell what the standards in a world were. There had been one place where sugar had been used as the main form of currency, and another where gender roles were reversed, but the people had been so androgynous it'd been hard to tell.

They were little things, but not understanding the intricacies of the societies spelled trouble for Seishirou. "Is it spring right now?" he asked.

"No, it's just about to enter October. Or are seasons reversed where you're from?" There was genuine curiosity in his words.

"Most worlds have similar seasons, the problem is knowing which hemisphere you've landed in. Nippon is usually in the Northern one, but I've visited a few where it was located in the south. Not that it made a huge difference, fashion was quite similar."

Sakurazuka moved his fingers to pull his glass in closer. Like most smokers, he seemed to require something to occupy his hands when there wasn't a cigarette in them. Idly, he tipped the glass back and forth slightly, causing the water to rise and sink rhythmically against the sides. "I've always been curious about other worlds, and what they're like."

"Maybe you should see about traveling them sometime," Seishirou said, though he hoped the older man wouldn't. He wouldn't want to take the chance of encountering this man unexpectedly in a neutral world. He wanted Sakurazuka worlds away from _his_ Subaru.

"I won't leave this world until I finish what I started," Sakurazuka said.

There was a finality in his words that didn't encourage any argument. Seishirou raised an eyebrow, knowing that he shouldn't push. Kimi appeared again, smiling at them brilliantly before pulling out a crisp notepad from her apron to take their orders. "What'll it be?" she asked, turning first to Seishirou.

"Whatever he has," he said. They were essentially the same person, so their tastes would match. "I'm sure _ojiisan_ knows what's good."

"Spaghetti, of course," Sakurazuka said when she looked inquiringly at him. "With your thinnest pasta."

"Meatballs?"

"Did Georgio make them?"

"Of course. After the last time Yuna tried to, he insists he's the only one who can."

"Then definitely," Sakurazuka agreed. "Do you have any more of that 1998 Benotto?"

"Would you like a glass, or a bottle?" she looked at Seishirou, obviously wondering if he was old enough to drink.

"A bottle, I think," Sakurazuka answered, handing the menu back to her. Seishirou handed his back as well. "Bring it with dinner."

"No problem," she promised. "Do you like garlic bread?" she asked Seishirou. "I know Sakurazuka-sensei prefers his spaghetti without accompaniment, but we do some really great things with bread. Or I can get you something else."

"I don't need anything," he said. He tried to avoid eating garlic, considering his Subaru's unique... condition.

"Got it!" she said, scribbling something in a chicken-scratch hand on her pad. "It'll be out shortly." Kimi vanished as quickly as she'd appeared.

"Where were we?" Sakurazuka asked.

"I lost track," Seishirou lied politely, earning a smirk from Sakurazuka. "What do you do for a living?" Kimi had called Seishirou _sensei_, but that could mean a wide array of positions.

"I'm a veterinarian," Sakurazuka said. "Certainly nothing as exciting as a dimension traveler."

Seishirou pitied any animals that fell into this man's care. Sakurazuka was the type to heavily favor euthanasia over actual healing. "Surely that's not all," he protested.

"It pays the bills," Sakurazuka said with an elegant shrug of his shoulders.

Here was a place that Seishirou could stand firm without risking offense. "A man does not trade his eye and work just as a veterinarian - and he doesn't smell of blood and sakura."

Sakurazuka seemed satisfied with that answer. "I'm also a government assassin," he said in a conversational tone. "You?"

"Vampire hunter."

"I'm sure Subaru-kun's very cute with fangs," Sakurazuka said, a statement, not a question. Seishirou kicked himself mentally for giving this man any more information than he had to, but this man was _him_, only twice as old and twice as canny. This was not a battle he could win, but he'd fight it anyway. Retreating was not an option, not on this man's home turf.

"I suppose that's one way to describe it." Seeing Subaru covered in blood always threw him for a loop. He had the sweetest smile and stammered so shyly, but some of the things he had done were unbelievable. Maybe that was one of the reasons Seishirou wanted to find him. He wanted to be the one to kill him, and no one else.

"My Subaru tries to protect everything," Sakurazuka said. "It's hard to imagine him killing anything without guilt."

"He never does anything without guilt," Seishirou replied. No, that was Hokuto. "But he still does what he must."

"Fate has a way of being a bitch, doesn't it?"

They were quiet for a long moment, weighing each other carefully. Seishirou wanted to steer the conversation away from himself, since he'd answered far more questions than Sakurazuka, but the older man was just better at controlling the subjects. He pinned it down to experience, and he wracked his brain, trying to find a hint, anything, he could use to get more information on what this man was like. If he could learn about Sakurazuka Seishirou, perhaps he would gain a valuable insight into what he would become; or at least what mistakes to avoid making.

"Dinner is served!" A cheerful voice said, cutting through the uncomfortable silence, and Seishirou turned his attention to Kimi. He had internally dismissed her as unimportant, but the way she skillfully balanced the tray on her shoulder spoke of more grace than he would have credited her with. She set the plates down in front of them, before vanishing again, only to reappear with a bottle of wine. With a clean, white cloth over her arm, she decanted the bottle with practiced ease before setting it on the table. "Let it breathe for a couple of minutes before serving," she advised, taking the cork with her as she left.

Now that the food was in front of him, Seishirou hesitated. The small, nagging corner of his mind said giving Sakurazuka an inch of trust would be a mistake, but it smelled delicious. Seishirou decided to take the chance - it wasn't like he wasn't able to cure almost any poison that might be inflicted on his person. Besides, he was hungry.

"Thank you for the meal," Seishirou said before he picked up the fork, putting it into the pasta and twisting strands around its prongs neatly. It was one of the more ordinary utensils he'd encountered in his travels. He could never forget that bizarre world where it had been appropriate to use lacquer-hardened quill feathers as a scoop. The food was good, savory without being over-spiced. The pasta was cooked perfectly al dente, and he found the taste of spices pleasantly tangy.

Sakurazuka ate neatly, avoiding the use of the knife or spoon, managing to gracefully eat the messy food with just a fork. Even though he was wearing a white dress shirt, Seishirou knew the man would finish the evening without so much as a spatter of sauce on him.

He cleared half his plate before he heard Sakurazuka set down his utensils. He paused, fork and knife hovering over his plate, watching what the older him was about to do. Sakurazuka lifted the wine bottle, leaning over to inhale its aroma and sighing a bit with pleasure at its bouquet. Then he filled his glass two-third full, the deep red reminding Seishirou of blood. Hokuto preferred to be civilized about her condition, and often would partake of nourishment using similar vessels. "Would you like some?" Sakurazuka asked.

Seishirou handed over his empty glass wordlessly in response, waiting for it to be filled. The liquid flowed smoothly, and he couldn't get the thought out of his head that he was being offered blood to drink. He kept his face still, trying to hide the thoughts running through his head.

He wondered how well he did, because Sakurazuka offered another of those _looks_ that said he found Seishirou cute and amusing. It was vaguely insulting, but Seishirou knew Sakurazuka had the advantage on him. He accepted the glass back mutely.

"A toast?" Sakurazuka offered, holding up his glass inquiringly.

Seishirou was familiar with the custom, and lifted his own wine in reply. "What shall we drink to?"

"To destiny," Sakurazuka said, tapping his glass against Seishirou's with an ironic smile.

"To destiny," Seishirou echoed, wondering why he felt like Sakurazuka was hinting at something major. "May we find its course pleasant."

Sakurazuka's hand stilled for a brief moment, something most people would have missed, but Seishirou was a trained warrior and always kept his attention on his opponent. "To destiny, may we gracefully accept the inevitable," Sakurazuka murmured a split-second later.

Seishirou, had he been the type, might had screamed at that smug, intriguing statement. Instead, he smiled and took a tiny sip of the wine, and finding it pleasant, wished he dared drink a full cup. He needed to keep his head, and there was no telling what kind of alcohol content this brew had.

Sakurazuka seemed content to enjoy the silence as he sipped at his wine. Seishirou knew Sakurazuka was staring at him, which caused certain instincts to spring to life. He'd been both the hunter and the prey before, but this was the first time he couldn't tell which he was.

Finally their meal was finished, and they set down their forks at almost the same exact moment, the chime of the metal ringing against the plates in a peculiar harmony that signaled their time together was coming to an end. Life all good waitresses, Kimi appeared moments later to offer dessert. Upon their polite refusals, she pulled out the bill, which Sakurazuka paid with a gold credit card, and invention popular among the Tokyo template worlds. After signing the receipt with bold strokes of a pen, he handed the bill back to Kimi. "Thank you for your wonderful service," he said. "You've always been a pleasure."

Kimi frowned at him for a second, but a brief kiss to the back of her hand from Sakurazuka distracted her. She blushed beautifully, before shooing them out the door, claiming she had more cleaning up to do.

They stepped back out into the night, and Seishirou felt more alive now that he'd been fortified with good food. They started out toward the alley, instinctively seeking the shadows. He wasn't sure why he was still with his other self, but his instincts said that Sakurazuka was about to do something important.

Sakurazuka was quiet as they made their way through the darkness. He stopped in the middle of the alley, and Seishirou had to keep a firm reign on his reflexes to keep from attacking. "Are you staying in this world for a while?" he asked.

"A couple days, perhaps," Seishirou answered. He needed time to recover from the last journey. "Then... I've got to get moving again." He had his Subaru to find, and as interesting as this diversion was, he didn't want to waste anymore time in this world.

"You'll find him," Sakurazuka said. "Your destiny is his as well." He lit another cigarette, before offering Seishirou the most honest look he'd seen the older man wear, a fey expression that was at once resigned and hopeful. "Do yourself a favor. If you're still in this world tomorrow, avoid Rainbow Bridge," he said. He took another pull on his cigarette, before turning away.

Seishirou watched until he couldn't see the light of the older man's cigarette anymore. Then he pulled the amulet that contained the feather from under his shirt, realizing it would be wise to be in a different world when tomorrow arrived. 


End file.
